Gandalf's Shire Vacation
by Tom Bombadilo
Summary: In which Gandalf is scatter-brained, Faramir runs a long way, and Gimli is drunk, as usual. Crack!fic. OOC on all counts.


**Gandalf's Shire Vacation**

_By Bethany; 2011_

_Edited by Elrond_

_A/N: A very silly story in which Gandalf is rather scatter-brained, Faramir runs for several days, and Gimli is drunk, as usual. Read and review if you dare!_

* * *

It was a year after the Ring of Power had been destroyed, and Middle Earth was largely back to normal. Faramir was sitting alone, outside in the cool, summer night, ruminating upon the memories of his lost older brother. All at once, he happened upon an idea.

"Why couldn't I get Gandalf to conjure up the spirit of Boromir?" he mumbled under his breath. "Then I could at least see his face one last time." For many hours he thought about how he would ask Gandalf, and whether or not it would be considered an abomination in the Wizard community to restore the dead to life, even if only for an instant. Nevertheless, Faramir decided to at least ask.

_Knock! Knock! _ Gandalf was actually visiting Gondor at the time and was just in the room across the hall. It was all very convenient.

"Yello..." Gandalf said as he opened the rather large wooden door to his room. "Oh, Faramir! Come in! Come in!" The Wizard gestured to his young friend in need, stepping out of the way. "I was just packing for my trip to the Shire tomorrow. What do you need?"

"Well," faltered Faramir, hesitating a moment before setting his jaw resolutely and drawing his shoulders back to make his request. "Gandalf, I would like you to please do something for me, as a personal request."

At that moment a pesky fly started buzzing around Gandalf's head, and he swatted at it absentmindedly.

"Yes, yes. What is it you want, Faramir? I'm a busy Wizard and need to be on my way to see Toto Baggypants in the Shire. Erm, I mean _Frodo Baggins._" The Wizard started swatting at the fly again.

Faramir, sensing Gandalf's irritation, became possessed of a growing feeling of trepidation as he continued with his request.

"Well, spit it out, boy!" Gandalf commanded, tossing some of his Hawaiian shirts into his already overstuffed suitcase.

Faramir sighed. "I... I have come to ask… if you could," he hesitated a moment before blurting, "bring Boromir back to life!"

Gandalf stared at the young warrior with a blank face for about two minutes. That's a really long time to be stared at by a Wizard, and Faramir had been feeling very uncomfortable for some time before Gandalf replied, animatedly, "Conjure up Boromir's spirit...? Why didn't I think of that?!" The Wizard seemed rather excited. "Quickly! We must undergo an extensive inquisition to find out where, exactly, Boromir met his untimely demise. To do that we must go to the Shire and find Merry and Pippin."

There was a delighted expression spreading across his face now. He had an ulterior motive for going to the Shire. He let his mind wander, dreaming of the Longbottom Leaf the jolly hobbits would surely offer him, along with some of the best ale in the entire world. He licked his lips with anticipation, and then, with a jerk, pulled himself back to reality to find Faramir staring at him questioningly.

Hurriedly Gandalf grabbed his staff and jumped on to Shadowfax's back. (The horse had, apparently, been in his room.) "To the Shire!" he bellowed and took off at a full gallop, leaving poor Faramir behind in the proverbial dust.

A few days later, Gandalf finally arrived at the Shire. Quite thirsty, he decided to stop at the Green Dragon for a nice, cold mug of ale. Gandalf leaped off Shadowfax and waltzed inside the brewery. Unfortunately, he ran right smack into Sam, who was holding a large pint of beer. The drink smirched the Wizard's dazzling white robe, turning it a nasty shade of yellow.

Gandalf frowned. "Well, if it isn't Frodo's partisan... Samwise Gamgee."

Sam, looking terrified, began to apologize like his life depended on it and started wiping the red-faced Wizard's robe off with his green cloak. Gandalf raised his hand as if to strike the blustering hobbit, but then his face returned to its normal color and he took a few deep breaths. He smiled and let his arm fall to his side.

"Samwise Gamgee, due to your unstoppable clumsiness I will overlook your wrong… this time. But hear my words: please try to be a little more careful." Taking off his robe, under which he was wearing a see-through wife beater and a pair of red polka-dotted boxer briefs, he handed it to Sam and schooled him in the correct way of washing it before shooing him out the door.

Sam was in awe of the providence that had been shown to him, and happily skipped down the path to his home, where he was secretly going to ask his wife Rosy to wash Gandalf's robe.

Meanwhile, Gandalf plopped himself down at the nearest empty table and gestured to a chubby hobbit-lass for a pint. Then he leaned back in his chair and began to observe his surroundings. Presently, he noticed a very fat dwarf with a red beard and rosy cheeks staggering back and forth in the left hand corner of the room, muttering drunkenly and cackling to himself. However, Gandalf could make out the words, "It's the dwarves that go swimming… with little hairy women!"

Then Gimli, for it was, in fact, Gimli, son of Gloin, heaved a great belch and collapsed on the floor, falling into a drunken slumber.

"What licentious behavior," grumbled Gandalf under his breath as he snatched up the pint the waitress had just deposited on the table. Draining the entire mug in three gulps, he wiped his white beard with his arm and got to his feet. He then made his way over to the fallen dwarf, pulling him up.

"Wake up, you fool, and tell me where Merry and Pippin are!" demanded Gandalf grumpily. "If you don't, I'll tell all your dwarf buddies that you're a drunken, pointy-ear lover and then they will never let you return to the mines."

Gimli jolted awake and growled, "But that would surely bring defamation to my good name and then I would never be able to see my mommy again!"

"I won't tell anyone if you explain where Merry and Pippin are."

"How am I supposed to know where they are?" questioned Gimli.

"Because if there is any heavy drinking going on in the Shire, Merry and Pippin will almost certainly be in the midst," explained Gandalf.

"Okay, okay you got me," Gimli admitted. "They said something about going to spy on some pretty hobbit lass who lives down the road."

"You had better corroborate on that," threatened Gandalf with a glare.

Fearfully, Gimli pulled a colorful piece of fabric from behind the chair he had apparently been sitting in moments before and handed it to the irritated Wizard. "Pippin's scarf," the dwarf stated with a huff. He had wanted to keep it.

"That is all I need to see," said Gandalf. Releasing the dwarf, he made for the door. However, before he could get one toe outside, he was run over by a very angry Faramir, who was huffing and puffing from the great distance he had just run on foot.

"Where is that smelly Wizard?" he demanded, panting, evidently unaware that he was standing on top of the crumpled old man. Looking around without much success, he beckoned to the waitress. She winked and came right over.

"If you see a tall, old man with a white beard and a pointy hat, please tell him that Faramir is no longer in need of his services," Faramir instructed. "I have just been informed by Legolas of the Woodland Realm that Galadriel would be more than happy to conjure up my brother's spirit for me."

Then, with a flourish, Faramir exited, leaving boot prints on Gandalf's face.

The hobbit lass looked down at Gandalf and asked, "Did you get all that?" There was a cheeky smile on her face.

Gandalf rolled his eyes and began to peel himself off the floor, but was run over yet again by Merry and Pippin on their way to get some more pints.

The End


End file.
